The Moment of Decision: The Story Too Disturbing For “Alfred Hitchcock Presents”

Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:08):
Welcome Weirdos. I'm Darren Marler and this is Weird Darkness.
Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore,
the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained.
Coming up in this episode, it's a story by Stanley

(00:30):
Ellen called The Moment of Decision. Stanley Ellen was an
American mystery writer. While his novels are acclaimed, he's best
known for his short stories. In May nineteen forty eight,
his first sale and one of Ellen's most famous short stories,
The Specialty of the House, appeared in Ellery Queen's Mystery magazine.
In the years to come, Ellen's fame as an author grew.

(00:52):
He was awarded three Edgar Allan Poe Awards. Several episodes
of Alfred Hitchcock Presents were based on Ellen's short stories.
And while this story was presented to Alfred Hitchcock for
the TV show, and while Hitchcock loved this story, the
network wouldn't allow it. It was too dark for network
television at the time. So when Alfred Hitchcock later published

(01:14):
numerous anthology books with stories that he was not allowed
to use on television, this story was included in the
Moment of Decision by Stanley Ellen. Two men of very
different character, different ways of viewing the world, challenge one
another over the future of a house that each values
in his own way. A bet is made, the stakes

(01:35):
are unexpectedly raised, and in the end, well suffice it
to say that the story lingers long past the closing line.
Now it's the Moment of Decision by Stanley Ellen. So
bult your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights,
and come with me into the weird darkness. Hugh Losure

(02:14):
was the exception to the rule that people who are
completely sure themselves cannot be likable. We have all met
the sure ones, of course, those controlled but penetrating voices
which cut through all others in discussion, those hard forefingers
jabbing home opinions on your chest, those living final words
on all issues. And I imagine we all share the

(02:36):
same amalgam of dislike and envy for them. Dislike because
no one likes to be shouted down or prodded in
the chest, and envy because everyone wishes he himself were
so rich and self assurance that he could do the
shouting down and the prodding for myself, since my work
took me regularly to certain places in this atomic world

(02:59):
were the only date was confusion, and the only steady
employment that of splitting political hairs. I found absolute judgments
harder and harder to come by. Hugh once observed on
this that it was a good thing my superiors in
the department were not cut of the same cloth, because
God knows what would happen to the country. Then I

(03:20):
didn't relish that. But and there was my curse again.
I had to grant him his right to say it.
Despite this, and despite the fact that Hugh was my
brother in law, a curious relationship when you come to
think of it, I liked him immensely, just as everyone
else did who knew him. He was a big, good
looking man, with clear blue eyes and a ruddy face,

(03:43):
and with a quick, outgoing nature, eager to appreciate whatever
you had to offer. He was overwhelmingly generous, and his
generosity was of that rare and excellent kind which makes
you feel as if you're doing the donor a favor
by accepting it. I wouldn't say he had a great
sense of humor, but plain good humor can sometimes be

(04:04):
inadequate substitute for that, and in Hugh's case, it was
his stormy side was largely reserved for those times when
he thought you might have needed his help in something
and failed to call him for it, which meant that
ten minutes after Hugh had met you and liked you,
you were expected to ask him for anything he might
be able to offer, a month or so after he

(04:25):
married my sister Elizabeth, she mentioned to him my avid
interest in a fine Kopley that he had hanging in
his gallery at Hilltop, and I can still vividly recall
my horror when it suddenly arrived, heavily created, and with
his gift card attached at my barren room and a half.
It took considerable effort, but I finally managed to return

(04:47):
it to him by foregoing the argument that the picture
was undoubtedly worth more than the entire building in which
I lived, and by complaining that it simply didn't show
to advantage on my wall. I think he suspected I
was lying, but being Hugh, he would never dream of
charging me with that. In so many words. Of course,
Hilltop and the two hundred years of losure tradition that

(05:09):
went into it did much to shape Hugh this way.
The first losures had carved the estate from the heights
overlooking the river. It worked hard and flourished exceedingly. Its
successive generations had invested their income so wisely that money
and position eventually erected a towering wall between Hilltop and
the world outside. Truth to tell, he was very much

(05:31):
a man of the eighteenth century who somehow found himself
in the twentieth and simply made the best of it.
Hilltop itself was almost a replica of the celebrated but
long untendanted Dane house nearby, and was striking enough to
open anybody's eyes at a glance. The house was weathered stone,

(05:52):
graceful despite its bulk, and the vast lawns reaching to
the river's edge were tended with such fanatic devotion over
the years that they'd become carpets of purest green, which
magically changed luster under any breeze. Gardens ranged from the
other side of the house down to the groves, which
half hid the stables and outbuildings, and past the far

(06:14):
side of the groves ran the narrow road which led
to town. The road was a courtesy road, each estateholder
along it maintaining his share, and I think it's safe
to say that for all the crushed rock he laid
in it, Hugh made less use of it by far
than any of his neighbors. Hugh's life was bound up
in Hilltop. He could be made to leave it only

(06:35):
by dire necessity. And if you did meet him away
from it, you were made acutely aware that he was
counting off the minutes until he could return. And if
you weren't weary, you would more than likely find yourself
going along with him when he did return, and totally
unable to tear yourself away from the place while the
precious weeks rolled by. I know, I believe I spent

(06:57):
more time at Hilltop than at my own apartment after
my sister brought Hugh into the family. At one time
I wondered how Elizabeth took to this marriage, considering that
before she met Hugh she had been as restless and
flighty as she was pretty. When I put the question
to her directly, she said, it's wonderful, darling, just as

(07:17):
wonderful as I knew it would be when I first
met him. Turned out that their first meeting had taken
place at an art exhibition showing of some ultra modern stuff,
and she'd been intensely studying one of the more bewildering
concoctions on display when she became aware of this tall,
good looking man staring at her. And, as she put it,

(07:38):
she had been about to set him properly in his
place when he said abruptly, are you admiring? That this
was so unlike what she had expected that she was
taken completely aback. I don't know, she said weakly. Am
I supposed to? No, said the stranger. It's damned nonsense.
Come along now and I'll show you something which isn't

(08:00):
a waste of time. And Elizabeth said to me, I
came along like a pup at his heels while he
marched up and down and told me what was good
and what was bad, and in a good loud voice, too,
so that we collected quite a crowd along the way.
Can you picture it, darling, Yes, I said I can.
By now, I have shared similar occasions with Hugh and

(08:21):
learned at firsthand that nothing could dent his cast iron assurance. Well,
Elizabeth went on, I must admit that at first I
was a little put off, but then I began to
see that he knew exactly what he was talking about,
and that he was terribly sincere, not a bit self
conscious about anything, but just eager for me to understand

(08:43):
things the way he did. It's the same way with everything.
Everybody else in the world is always fumbling and bumbling
over deciding anything, what to order for dinner, or how
to manage his job, or whom to vote for. But
Hugh always knows that makes for all of those nerves
and complexes and things you hear about. Isn't that so well?

(09:06):
I'll take Hugh, thank you, and leave everyone else to
the psychiatrists. So there it was, and Eden, with flawless
lawns and no awful nerves and complexes, and not even
the glimmer of a serpent in the offing. That is
not a glimmer until the day Raymond made his entrance
on the scene. We were out on the terrace that day,

(09:29):
Hugh and Elizabeth and I slowly being melted into a
sort of liquid torpor by the August sunshine, and all
of us too far gone to make even a pretense
at talk. I lay there with a linen cap over
my face, listening to the summer noises around me, and
being perfectly happy. There was the low, steady hiss of

(09:49):
the breeze through the aspens nearby, the plash and drip
of oars on the river below, and now and then
the melancholy tink tunk of a sheep bell from one
of the flock, and the lawn. One the flock was
a fancy of hughes. He swore that nothing was better
for a law and than a few sheep grazing on it.
And every summer five or six fat, sleepy ewes were

(10:10):
turned out on the grass to serve this purpose, and
to add a pleasantly pastoral note to the view. My
first warning of something a miss came from the sheep,
from the sudden sound of their bells clanging wildly, and
then a buying which suggested an assault by a whole
pack of wolves. I heard Hugh say damn, loudly and angrily,

(10:32):
and I opened my eyes to see something more incongruous
than wolves. It was a large black poodle in the
full glory of a clownish haircut, a bright red collar,
and an ecstasy of high spirits. As he chased the
frightened sheep around the lawn. It was clear that the
poodle had no intentions of hurting them. He probably found
them the most wonderful playmates imaginable. But it was just

(10:53):
as clear that the panicky ewes didn't understand this and
would very likely end up in the river before the
fun was over. In the bear second it took me
to see all of this, Hugh had already leaped the
low terrace wall and was among the sheep, hurting them
away from the water's edge and shouting commands at the dog,
who had different ideas. Down boy, he yelled down, and then,

(11:15):
as he would to one of his own hounds, he
sternly commanded heal. He would have done better, I thought
to have picked up a stick or stone and made
a threatening gesture. Since the pool paid no attention whatsoever
to Hugh's words, instead continuing to bark happily, the poodle
made for the sheep again, this time with Hugh in
a futile pursuit. An instant later, the dog was frozen

(11:39):
into immobility by a voice from among the aspens near
the edge of the lawn, Asyad's. The voice called breathlessly,
Asiad's doy. Then the man appeared, a small, dapper figure
trotting across the grass Hugh stood waiting, his face darkening
as he watched. Elizabeth squeezed my arm. Let's get down there,
she whispered, who doesn't like being made a fool of?

(12:02):
We got there in time to hear Hugh open his
big guns. Any man, he was saying, who doesn't know
how to train an animal to its place should known one.
The man's face was all polite attention. It was a
good face, thin and intelligent, and webbed, with tiny lines
at the corner of the eyes. There was also something
behind those eyes that couldn't quite be masked, a gentle mockery,

(12:27):
a glint of rye perception turned on the world like
a camera lens. It was nothing anyone like Hugh would
have noticed, but it was there all the same, and
I found myself warming to it on the spot. There
was also something tantalizingly familiar about the newcomer's face, his
high forehead, and his thinning gray hair. But much as

(12:48):
I dug into my memory during Hugh's long and solemn lecture,
I couldn't come up with an answer. The lecture ended
with a few remarks on the best methods of dog training,
and by then it was clear that Hugh was working
himself into a mood of forgiveness, as long as there's
no harm done, he said. The man nodded soberly. Still
to get off on the wrong foot with one's own neighbors.

(13:12):
You look startled neighbors, he said, almost rudely. You mean
that you live around here. The man waved toward the
aspens on the other side of those woods, the Dane House.
The Deane House was almost as sacred to Hugh as Hilltop,
and he had once explained to me that if he
were ever offered a chance to buy the place, he

(13:34):
would snap it up. His tone now was not so
much wounded as incredulous. I don't believe it, he exclaimed.
Oh yes, the man assured him. The Dane House. I
performed that a party many years ago, and always hoped
that someday I might own it. It was the word
performed which gave me my clue that in the accent

(13:56):
barely perceptible under the precise English, he had been born
and raised in Marseilles. That would explain the accent, And
long before my time he had already become a legend.
You are Raymond, aren't you, I said Charles Raymond I
preferred Raymond alone. He smiled in deprecation of his own
small vanity, and I am flatted that you recognize me.

(14:18):
I don't believe he really was. Reemond the magician. Raymond
the Great would if anything except to be recognized wherever
he went. As the master of sleight of hand, who
had peeled Thurston's star, as the escape artist had almost
outshone Houdini, Raymond would not be inclined to underestimate himself.
He had started with the standard box of tricks, which

(14:40):
makes up the repertoire of most professional magicians. He'd gone
far beyond that, to those feats of escape, which I
suppose are known to us all by now. The lead
cast gets sealed under a foot of lake ice. The
welded steel strait jackets, the vaults of the Bank of England.
The exquisite suicide knot which noose's throat and doubles lef

(15:00):
legs together so that the motion of a leg draws
the news tighter around the throat. All these Raymond had
known and escaped from. And then at the pivocle of fame,
he had dropped from sight, and his name had become
relegated to the past. When I asked him why he
shrugged mad works for money or for the love of

(15:20):
his work. If he has all the wealth he needs
and he has no more love for his work, why
go on but to give up a great career, I protested.
It was enough to know that the house was waiting here.
You mean, Elizabeth, said that you never intended to live
any place but here, never, not once in all these years.

(15:43):
He laid a finger along his nose and winked broadly
at us. Of course, I made no secret of this
to the day and estate, and when the time came
to sell, I was the first and only one approached.
You don't give up an idea easily, you said, in
an edged voice, Raymond laughed. I it's become an insssion really.
Over the years I traveled to many parts of the world,

(16:05):
But no matter how fine the place, I knew, it
could not be as fine as that house on the
edge of the woods, there, with the river at its
feet and the hills beyond. Someday I would tell myself,
what my travels are done, I will come here and
like caneded cultivate my garden. He ran his hand abstractly
over the poodle's head and looked around us with an

(16:28):
air of great satisfaction. And now he said, here I
am here. He was, indeed, and it quickly became clear
that his arrival was working a change on Hilltop Orp.
Since Siltop was so completely a reflection of Hugh, it
was clear that a change was being worked on Hugh.
He became irritable and restless, and more aggressively square of

(16:51):
himself than ever. The warmth and good nature were still there,
They were as much part of him as his arrogance,
but he now had to work a little harder at them.
He reminded me of a man who was bothered by
a spect in his eye, but can't find it, and
must get along with it as best he can. Raymond,
of course, was the speck, and I got the impression
at times that he rather enjoyed the role. It would

(17:15):
have been easy enough for him to stay close to
his own house and cultivate his garden, or paced up
his album, or whatever retired performers do, but he evidently
found that impossible. He had a way of drifting over
to Hilltop at odd times, just as Hugh was led
to find his way to the Dane house and spend
long and troublesome sessions there. Both of them must have

(17:37):
known that they were so badly suited to each other
that the easy and logical solution would have been to
stay apart. But they had the affinity of negative and
positive forces, and when they were in a room together,
the crackling of the antagonistic current between them was so
strong you could almost see it in the air. Any
subject became a point of contention for them, and they

(17:58):
would duel over it bitterly. Hugh armored and weaponed with
his massive assurance, Raymond flicking away with a rapier, trying
to find a chink in the armor. I think what
annoyed Raymond most was the discovery that there was no
chink in the armor. As someone with an obvious passion
for searching out all sides to all questions and for
going deep into motives and causes, he was continually being

(18:22):
outraged by Hugh's single minded way of laying down the law.
He didn't hesitate to. Let Hugh know that you are
positively medieval, he said, And all things men should have
learned since that time, the biggest is that there are
no easy answers, no solution one can give with a
snap of the fingers. I can only hope for you
that someday you may be faced with the perfect dilemma,

(18:45):
an unanswerable question. You'd find that a revelation. You would
learn more in that minute than you dreamed possible. And
Hugh did not make matters any better when he coldly answered,
and I say that, for any man with a brain
and the courage to use it, there is no such
thing as a perfect dilemma. It may be that this

(19:07):
was the sort of episode that led to the trouble
that followed, or it may be that Raymond acted out
of the most innocent and esthetic motives possible. But whatever
the motives, the results were inevitable and dangerous. We'll have

(19:32):
more of our story The Moment of Decision by Stanley
Ellen when Weird Darkness returns. October is birthday month for
Weird Darkness. This year makes it ten years of doing

(19:55):
the show. But while it's our birthday, we want the
gifts to go to those who help people who suffer depression, anxiety,
or thoughts of suicide or self harm. That's what our
annual Overcoming the Darkness campaign is all about. It's the
only fundraiser I have all year long. You can bring
hope to those who are lost in the darkness of depression.
You can make a donation right now at weirddarkness dot

(20:16):
com slash hope. I'll close out the fundraiser at the
end of October and announce how much we raised. The
more we raise, the more people we can help. To donate,
get more information about the fundraiser and the organizations we're supporting,
or find hope for yourself or someone you know who
are fighting depression. Visit weirddarkness dot com slash hope. Please
donate now while you're thinking about it. Weird darkness dot

(20:39):
com slash hope. They grew from the project Raymond outlined
for us in great detail. One afternoon, now that he
was living in the Dane House, he discovered that it
was too big, too overwhelming, like a museum, he explained,

(21:02):
I find myself wandering through it like a lost soul
through endless galleries. The grounds also needed landscaping. The ancient
trees were handsome, but as Raymond put it, there were
just too many of them. Literally, he said, I cannot
see the river for the trees, and I am one
devoted to the site of running water, although there would

(21:23):
be drastic changes. Two wings of the house would come down,
the trees would be cleared away to make a broad
aisle to the water. The whole place would be enlivened.
It would no longer be a museum, but the perfect
ham that he'd envisioned over the years. At the start
of this recitative, Hugh was slouched comfortably in his chair. Then,
as Raymond drew the vivid picture of what was to be,

(21:46):
Hugh sat up straighter and straighter, until he was as
rigid as a trooper in the saddle. His lips compressed,
his face became blood red, his hands clenched and unclenched
in a slow, deadly rhythm. Only a miracle was restraining
him from an open outburst. But it was not the
kind of miracle to last. I saw from Elizabeth's expression

(22:07):
that she understood this too, but was as helpless as
I to do anything about it. And when Raymond, after
painting the last glowing strokes of his description, said complacently, well,
now what do you think, there was no holding Hugh.
He leaned forward with deliberation and said, do you really
want to know what I think? Now? Hugh, Elizabeth said

(22:29):
in alarm. Please Hugh, he breshed that aside. Do you
really want to know, he demanded of Raymond. Raymond frowned.
Of course, then I'll tell you, Hugh said. He took
a deep breath. I think that nobody but a damned
iconoclast could even conceive the atrocity you're proposing. I think
you're one of those people who take pleasure and smashing

(22:50):
apart in anything that stamped with tradition or stability. You'd
kicked the props from under the whole world. If you could,
I beg your pardon, Raymond said, he was very pale
and angry. But I think your confusing change with destruction.
Surely you must comprehend. I do not intend to destroy anything,
but only wish to make some necessary changes necessary, Hugh guibed.

(23:13):
Rooting up a fine stand of trees that's been there
for centuries, ripping apart a house that's as solid as
a rock, I call it wanton destruction. I'm afraid I
do not understand to refresh a scene to reshape it.
I have no intention of arguing you cut in. I'm
telling you straight out that you don't have the right
to tamper with that property. They were on their feet

(23:35):
now facing each other, and the only thing that kept
me from being really frightened was the conviction that Hugh
would not become violent, and that Raymond was far too
level headed to lose his temper. Then the threatening moment
was magically passed. Raymond's lips suddenly quirked in amusement, and
he studied Hugh with courteous interest. I see, he said,

(23:56):
I was quite stupid not to have understood it once.
This property, which I remarked, was a little too much
like a museum, is to remain that way, and I
am to be its custodian, a caretaker of the past,
one might say, a curator of its reddicks. He shook
his head smilingly. But I'm afraid I'm not quite suited
to that role. I lift my hat to the past,

(24:17):
it is true, but I prefer to court the present.
For that reason, I will go ahead with my plans
and hope they do not make an obstacle to our friendship.
I remember thinking, when I left the next day for
the city, in a long hot week at my desk,
that Raymond had carried off the affair very nicely, and
that thank god, it had gone no further than it did.

(24:38):
So I was completely unprepared for Elizabeth's call at the
end of the week. It was awful, she said. It
was the business of Hugh and Raymond and the Dane House.
But worse than ever, she was counting on my coming
down to Hilltop the next day. There couldn't be any
question about that. She had planned a way of clearing
up the whole thing, but I simply had to be

(24:59):
there to back her up. After all, I was one
of the few people Hugh would listen to, and she
was depending on me, depending on me for what I said.
I didn't like the sound of it. And as for
Hughes listening to me, Elizabeth, isn't that stretching it a
good deal? I can't see him wanting my advice on
his personal affairs. If you're going to be touchy about it,

(25:21):
I'm not touchy about it, I retorted. I just don't
like getting mixed up in this thing. Hugh's quite capable
of taking care of himself, maybe too capable. And what
does that mean? Oh, I can't explain now, she wailed.
I'll tell you everything tomorrow, and Darling if you have
any brotherly feelings, you'll be here on the morning train.

(25:43):
Believe me, it's serious. I arrived on the morning train
in a bad state. My imagination is one of the
overactive kinds that can build a cosmic disaster out of
very little material, and by the time I arrived at
the house, I was prepared for almost anything. But on
the surface, at least, all was serene. Hugh greeted me warmly.

(26:05):
Elizabeth was her cheerful self, and we had an amiable
lunch and a long talk which never came near the
subject of Raymond or the Dane House. I said nothing
about Elizabeth's phone call, but thought of it with a
steadily growing sense of outrage until I was alone with her. Now,
I said, I'd like an explanation of all of this mystery.

(26:26):
The Lord knows what I expected to find out here,
but it certainly wasn't anything I've seen so far, and
I'd like some accounting for the bad time you've been
given me since that call. All right, she said grimly,
and that's what you'll get. Come along. She led the
way on a long walk through the gardens and passed

(26:46):
the stables and outbuildings near the private road which lay
beyond the last grove of trees. She suddenly said, when
the car drove you up to the house, didn't you
notice anything strange about this road? No, I didn't, I
suppose not. The driveway to the house turns off too
far from here. But now you'll have a chance to

(27:06):
see for yourself. I did see for myself. A chair
was set squarely in the middle of the road, and
on the chair sat a stout man, placidly reading a magazine.
I recognized the man at once. He was one of
Hughes's stable hands, and he had the patient look of
someone who had been sitting for a long time and
expects to sit a good deal longer. It took me

(27:28):
only a second to realize what he was there for.
But Elizabeth wasn't leaving anything to my deductive powers. When
we walked over to him, the man stood up and
grinned at us. William. Elizabeth said, would you mind telling
my brother what instructions mister Lozier gave you? Sure, the
man said, cheerfully, mister Loser told us that there's always

(27:49):
supposed to be one of us sitting right here in
any truck we saw that might be carrying construction stuff
or such like. For the Dane House was to be
stopped and turned back. All we had to do is
tell them it's private property and they were trespassing. If
they laid a finger on us, we just call in
the police. That's the whole thing. Have you turned back
any trucks, Elizabeth asked for my benefit. The man looks surprised.

(28:13):
Why you know that, missus losure, He said, there's a
couple of them the first day we were out here,
and that was all. There wasn't any fuss either, he
explained to me. None of those drivers won a monkey
with trespass. When we were away from the road again,
I clapped my hand to my forehead. It's incredible, I said.

(28:34):
Hugh must know he can't get away with this. That
road is the only one to the Dane place, and
it's been in public use so long that it isn't
even a private thoroughfare anymore. Elizabeth nodded. And that's exactly
what Raymond told Hugh a few days back. He came
over here in a fury and they had quite an
argument about it. And when Raymond said something about hauling

(28:55):
Hugh off to court, Hugh answered that he'd be glad
to spend the rest of his life in litigation over
this business. But that wasn't the worst of it. The
last thing Raymond said was that Hugh ought to know
that force only invites force. And ever since then, I've
been expecting a war to break out here any minute,
don't you see? That man blocking the road is a

(29:17):
constant provocation and it scares me. I can understand that.
And the more I consider it the matter, the more
dangerous it looked. But I have a plan, Elizabeth said eagerly.
And that's why I wanted you here. I'm having a
dinner party tonight, a very small, informal dinner party. It's
to be a sort of peace conference. You'll be there,

(29:38):
and doctor Winnett Hugh likes you both a great deal.
And she hesitated, and Raymond, no, I said, you mean
you mean he's actually coming. I went over to see
him yesterday and we had a long talk. I explained
everything to him about neighbors being able to sit down
and come to an understanding, and about brother Lee Low

(30:00):
and oh it must have sounded dreadfully inspirational and sticky,
but it worked. He said he would be there. I
had a foreboding Does Hugh know about this? About the dinner? Yes,
I mean about Raymond's being there? No, he doesn't. And

(30:20):
then when she saw me looking hard at her, she
burst out defiantly with, well, something had to be done,
and I did it, that's all. Isn't it better than
just sitting and waiting for god knows what? Until we
were all seated around the dining room table that evening,
I might have conceded the point you had been visibly
shocked by Raymond's arrival. But then, apart from a sidelong

(30:43):
glance at Elizabeth which had volumes written in it, he
managed to conceal his feelings well enough. He had made
the introductions gracefully, kept up his end of the conversation,
and allin all did a creditable job of playing host. Ironically,
it was the presence of doctor Wayne which made even
this much of a triumph possible for Elizabeth, and which

(31:05):
then turned it into disaster. The doctor was an eminent surgeon,
stocky and gray haired, with an abrupt positive way about him.
Despite his own position in the world, he seemed pleased
as a schoolboy to meet Raymond, and in no time
at all they were as thick as thieves. It was
when Hugh discovered during dinner that nearly all attention was
fixed on Raymond and very little on himself, that the

(31:28):
mantle of good host started to slip, and the fatal
flaws at Elizabeth's plan showed through. There are people who
enjoy entertaining lions, and who take pleasure in reflected glory,
But Hugh was not one of them. Besides, he regarded
the doctor as one of his closest friends. And I
have noticed that it is the most assured of men

(31:49):
who can be the most jealous of their friendships. And
when a prized friendship is being impinged on by the man,
won loaths more than anything else in the world. All
in all, By simply imagine myself in Hugh's place, and
looking across the table at Raymond, who is gaily and
unconcernedly holding forth, I was prepared for the worst. The

(32:09):
opportunity for it came to Hugh when Raymond was deep
in a discussion of the devices used in affecting escapes.
They were innumerable, he said. Almost anything one could seize
on would serve as such a device. A wire, a
scrap of metal, even a bit of paper at one
time or another, he had used them all. But of
them all, he said, with a sudden solemnity, as only

(32:31):
one I would stake my life on. Strange. It is
one you cannot see, cannot hold in your hand, in fact,
fall on many people. It does not even exist yet.
It is the one I have used most often, and
which has never failed me. The doctor leaned forward, his
eyes bright with interest. And it is it is a
knowledge of people, my friend, or as it may be put,

(32:53):
a knowledge of human nature. To me. It is as
vital an instrument as these scalpel is to you, Oh,
said Hugh, and his voice was so sharp that all
eyes were instantly turned on him. You make slighter hand
sound like an departure of psychology, perhaps, Raymond said. And
I saw that he was watching Hugh now gaging him.

(33:14):
You see, there's no great mystery in the matter. My profession,
my art, as I like to think of it, is
no more than the art of misdirection, and I am
but one of its many practitioners. I wouldn't say there
were many escape artists around nowadays, the doctor remarked. True,
Raymond said, what you'll observe, I referred to the art
of misdirection, the escape artist, the master alleged domain. These

(33:38):
are handful who practiced the most exotic form of that art,
but one of those who engage in the work of
politics or advertising of salesmanship. He laid his finger along
his nose in the familiar gesture and winked. I'm afraid
they have all made my art their business. The doctor smiled.
Since you haven't dragged medicine into it, I'm willing to

(33:59):
go along with you, he said. But what I want
to know is exactly how does this knowledge of human
nature work in your profession? In this way, Raymond said,
one must judge a person carefully. Then if he find
in that person certain weaknesses, he can state a false
premise and it would be accepted without question. Once the
false premise is swallowed, the rest is easy. The victim

(34:22):
will then only see what the magician wants him to see,
or will get his vote to that politician, or will
buy merchandise because of that advertising. He shrugged. And that
is all there is to it. It is, you said,
What happens when you're with people who have some intelligence
and won't swallow your false premise? How do you do

(34:42):
your tricks then, or do you keep them on the
same level as selling beads to the savages? Now that's
on called for Hugh, the doctor said. The man's expressing
his ideas. No reason to make an issue of them.
Maybe there is, Hugh said, his eyes fixed on Raymond.
I found that he's following interesting ideas. I was wondering
how far he'd want to go, and backing them up.

(35:05):
Raymond touched the napkin to his lips with a precise
little flick, and then laid it carefully on the table
before him in shot, he said, addressing himself to Hugh,
you want a small demonstration of my aunt, It depends,
Hugh said, I don't want any tricks, cigarette cases, or
rabbits out of hats or any damn nonsense like that.

(35:25):
I'd like to see something good. Something good, echoed Raymond reflectively.
He looked around the room, studied it, and then turned
to Hugh, pointing toward the huge oak door which was
closed between the dining room and the living room where
we had gathered before dinner. That door is not locked,
is it No, Hugh said, it isn't. It hasn't been

(35:47):
locked for years. But that is a key to it.
H pulled out his keychain and with an effort attached
a heavy, old fashioned key. Yes, it's the same one
we used for the butler's pantry. He was becoming interested
despite himself. Good, No, do not give it to me,
Give it to the doctor. You have faith in the
doctor's honor. I'm sure, yes, said Hugh rily. I have

(36:10):
very well. Now, doctor, will you please go to that
door and lock it. The doctor marched to the door
with his firm, decisive tread, thrust the key into the
lock and turned it. The click of the bolt snapping
into place was loud in the silence of the room.
The doctor returned to the table holding the key, but
Raymond motioned it away. It must not leave your hand

(36:32):
or everything is lost, he warned. Now, Raymond said, for
the finale, I approached the door. I flick my handkerchief
at it. The handkerchief barely brushed the keyhole, and presto,
the door is unlocked. The doctor went to it. He
seized the doorknob, twisted it dubiously, and then watched with
genuine astonishment as the door swung silently open. Well, I'll

(36:57):
be damned, he said. Somehow Elizabeth laughed. A false premise
went down easy as an oyster, only here reflected the
sense of personal outrage. All right, he demanded, how was
it done? How'd you work it? I, Raymond said, reproachfully,
and smiled at all of us with obvious enjoyment. It
was you who did it all. I only used my

(37:19):
little knowledge of human nature to help you along the way.
I said, I can guess part of it. That door
was set in advance, and when the doctor thought that
he was locking it, he wasn't. He was really unlocking it.
Isn't that the answer? Raymond nodded very much the answer.
The door was locked in advance. I made sure of that,
because for the little forethought I suspected there'd be such

(37:41):
a challenge during the evening, and this was the simplest
way of preparing for it. I merely made certain that
I was the last one to enter this room, and
when I did, I used this. He held up his
hand so that we could see the silver of metal
in it. An ordinary skeleton key, of course, but sufficient
for an old and primitive luck. For a moment, Raymond

(38:03):
looked grave, Then he continued brightly. He was all host himself,
who stated the false premise when he said the door
was unlocked. He was a man so sure of himself
that he would not think to test anything so obvious.
The doctor is also a man who is sure, and
he fell into the same trap. It is, as you
now see, a little dangerous always to be so sure.

(38:24):
I'll go along with that, the doctor said, ruefully, even
though it's heresy to admit it in my line of work.
He playfully tossed the key that he'd been holding across
the table to Hugh, who let it fall in front
of him and made no gesture toward it. Well, Hugh,
why could or not? You must admit the man has
proved his point, do I said Hugh softly. He sat

(38:45):
there smiling a little now, and it was easy to
see that he was turning some thoughts over and over
in his head. Oh come on, now, man, the doctor said,
with some impatience. You were taking in as much as
we were. You know that, of course you were. Arlene
Elizabeth agreed. I think this. She suddenly saw her opportunity
to turn the proceedings into the peace conference she had

(39:07):
aimed at. But I could have told her that she
was choosing her time badly. There was a look in
Hugh's eye. I did not like, a veiled look, which
wasn't natural to him. Ordinarily, when he was really angered,
he'd blow up a violent storm, and once the thunder
and lightning had passed, he'd honestly be apologetic. But this
present mood of his was different. There was a slumbrous

(39:31):
quality in it, which alarmed me. He hooked one arm
over the back of his chair and rested the other
one on the table, sitting halfway around to fix his
eyes on Raymond. I seemed to be a minority of one,
he remarked. But I'm sorry to say I found your
little trick disappointing. Not that it wasn't cleverly done, oh
grant you that, all right, but well because it wasn't

(39:53):
any more than you'd expect from a competent locksmith. Now
there's a large helping of sour grapes, the doctor jeered.
Hugh shook his head. Now, I'm simply saying that where
there's a lock on a door and a key to
it in your hand, it's no great trick to open it.
Considering our friend's reputation, I thought we'd see more from

(40:13):
him than that. Raymond grimaced. Since I'd hoped to entertain,
he said, I must apologize for disappointing. Oh and as
far as entertaining goes, I have no complaints. But for
a real test, i'll real test, Yes, something a little different.
Let's say a door without any locks or keys to taper,

(40:34):
with a closed door which can be opened with a fingertip,
but which is nevertheless impossible to open. How's that sound
to you? Raymond narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, as if he
were considering the picture being presented to him. It sounds
most interesting, he said. At last, tell me more about it. No,
Hugh said, and from the sudden eagerness in his voice,

(40:56):
I felt that this was the exact moment he'd been
looking for. I'll do better than that. I'll show it
to you. He stood up brusquely, and the rest of
us followed, suits, except Elizabeth, who remained in her seat.
When I asked her if she wanted to come along,
she only shook her head and sat there, watching us
hopelessly as we left the room. The moment of decision

(41:22):
by Stanley Ellen continues in just a Moment on Weird Darkness.
We all know someone who struggles with depression, whether we're

(41:42):
aware of it or not. It's something those who suffer
tend to deal with in silence, in the shadows. But
the organizations we are supporting with our annual Overcoming the
Darkness Fundraiser this month are working to make it easier
for those in the darkness to come into the light,
to find help, and to learn they're not alone, that
there are ways to over come the darkness of depression
and live normal lives. I do this fundraiser only one

(42:05):
month out of the year, as October is the anniversary
month for Weird Darkness, we launched in October twenty fifteen.
It's National Depression Awareness Month, and this month is spooky
and dark, kind of like depression. If you'd like to
make a donation or learn more about the fundraiser, or
find hope for yourself or someone you know who struggles
with depression, visit Weirddarkness dot com slash hope. The fundraiser

(42:27):
ends Halloween night at midnight. Please give what you can
Weird Darkness dot com slash hope. We were bound for
the cellars, I realized when Hugh picked up a flashlight

(42:49):
along the way, but for a part of the cellars
I had never seen before. On a few occasions, i'd
gone downstairs to help select a bottle of wine from
the rats there. But now we walk past the wine
vault and into a long, dimly lit chamber behind it.
Our feet scraped loudly on the rough stone. The walls
around us showed the stain of seepage, and warm as

(43:11):
the night was outside, I could feel the chill of
dampness turning my chest to goose flesh. When the doctor
shuddered and said, hollowly, diesel the very tombs of Atlantis,
I knew I wasn't alone in my feeling, and felt
some relief at that. We stopped at the very end
of the chamber before what I can best describe as
a stone closet built from floor to ceiling in the

(43:33):
farthest angle of the walls. It was about four feet
wide and not quite twice that in length, and its
open doorway showed impenetrable blackness inside. Here reached into the
blackness and pulled a heavy door into place. That's it,
he said abruptly, plain solid wood four inches thick, fitted
flushed into the frame so that it's almost air tight.

(43:54):
It's a beautiful piece of carpentry too, the can they
practiced two hundred years ago, and no old locks or bolts,
just a ring set into each side to use as
a handle. He pushed the door gently and it swung
open noiselessly at his touch. See that the whole thing's
balanced so perfectly on the hinges that it moves like
a feather. But what's it for, I asked. It must

(44:18):
have been made for a reason, Hugh laughed shortly. He
was back in the bad old days when a servant
committed a crime. I don't suppose it had to be
more of a crime than talking back to one of
the ancient losures. He was put in here to repent,
and since the air inside was good for only a
few hours at the most, he either repented damn soon

(44:40):
or not at all. And that door, the doctor said, cautiously,
that impressive door of yours, which opens in a touch
to provide all the air needed, or prevented the servant
from opening it, look, Hugh said. He flashed his light
inside the cell, and we crowded behind him to peer
in the circle of light. Reached across the cell to

(45:02):
its far wall and picked out a short, heavy, chain
hanging a little above head level, with the U shaped
collar dangling from its bottom link. I see, Raymond said,
and they were the first words I had heard him
speak since we had left the dining room. It is
truly ingenious. The man stands with his back against the
wall facing the door. The collar is placed around his neck,

(45:25):
and then, since it is clearly not made for a lock,
it is clamped there, hammered around his neck. The door
is closed, and the man spends the next few hours
like someone on an invisible rack, reaching out with his
feet to catch the ring on the door, which is
just out of reach. If he's lucky, he may not
strangle himself in his iron collar, but may live until

(45:47):
someone chooses to open the door for him. My God,
the doctor said, you make me feel as if I
were living through it. Raymond smiled faintly. I've lived through
many such experiences, and believe me, the reality is always
a little worse than the worst imaginings. There's always the
ultimate moment of terror, of panic, when the heart pounds

(46:09):
so madly you think it'll burst through your ribs, and
the cold sweat soaks clear through you. In the space
of one breath, that is when you must take yourself
in hand, must dispel all weakness, and remember all the
lessons you've ever learned. If not, he whisked the edge
of his hand across his lean throat. Unfortunately for the
usual victim of such a device, he concluded sadly, since

(46:32):
he lacks the essential courage and knowledge to help himself,
he secums. But you wouldn't, Hugh said, I have no
reason to think so, you mean, And the eagerness was
creeping back into Hugh's voice stronger than ever. That under
the very same conditions as someone chained in there two
hundred years ago, you could get this door open. The

(46:55):
challenging note was too strong to be brushed aside lightly.
Raymond stood islent for a long minute, face strained with concentration,
before he answered yes. He said, it will not be easy.
The problem is made formidable by its very simplicity, but
it could be solved. How long you think it'd take you?

(47:15):
An hour at the most. You would come a long
way around to get to this point, He asked the question, slowly,
savoring it. Would you want to bet on that? Now?
Wait a minute, the doctor said, I don't like any
part of this, and I vote we adjourn for a drink.
I put in Fun's fine, but we'll all wind up

(47:37):
pneumonia playing games down here. Neither Hugh nor Raymond appeared
to hear a word of this. They stood staring at
each other, Hugh waiting on pins and needles, Raymond deliberating,
until Raymond said, what does this bet? You offer this?
If you lose, you get out of the Dane House

(47:57):
inside of a month and sell it to me. And
if I win. It's not easy for Hugh to say it,
but he finally got it out. Then I'll be the
one to get out. And if you don't want to
buy Hilltop, I'll arrange to sell it to the first comer.
For anyone who knew Hugh, it was so fantastic, so
staggering a statement to hear from him that none of

(48:19):
us could find words at first. It was the doctor
who recovered most quickly. You're not speaking for yourself, Hugh,
he warned, you're a married man. Elizabeth's feelings have to
be considered. Is that a bet? Hugh demanded of Raymond.
Do you want to go through with it? I think
before I answer that there is something to be explained,

(48:40):
Raymond paused and went on slowly. I'm afraid I gave
the impression out of false pride, perhaps that when I
retired from my work it was because of a boredom,
a lack of interest in it that was not altogether
the truth. In reality, I was required to go to
a doctor some years ago. The doctor listened to my heart,

(49:02):
and suddenly my heart became the most important thing in
the world. I tell you this because while your challenge
strikes me as being a most unusual and interesting way
of settling differences between neighbors, I must reject it for
reasons of health. You were healthy enough a minute ago,
Hugh said, in a hard voice. Perhaps not as much

(49:23):
as you would want to think, my friend. In other words,
you said bitterly, there's no accomplice handy, no keys in
your pocket to help out, no way of tricking anyone
into seeing what isn't there. So you have to admit
you're beaten, Raymond, stiffened, I admit no such thing. All
the tools I would need, even for such a test

(49:45):
as this, I have with me. Believe me, they would
be enough. Hugh laughed aloud, and the sound of it
broke into small echoes. All down the corridors behind us.
Was that sound, I'm sure the living contempt in it,
rebounding from wall to wall all around us, which sent
Raymond into the cell. Hugh wielded the hammer, a short
handled but heavy sledge which tightened the collar into a

(50:08):
circlet around Raymond's neck, hitting with hard, even strokes at
the iron which was braced against the wall. When he
was finished, I saw the pale glow of the radiant
painted numbers on a watch as Raymond studied it in
his pitch darkness. It is now eleven, he said, calmly.
The wager is that by midnights this door must be opened,
and it does not matter what means. I used those

(50:30):
the conditions, and you, gentlemen, all the witnesses to them.
And the door was closed, and the walking began. Back
and forth. We walked, the three of us, as if
we were being compelled to trace every possible geometric figure
on that stony floor. The doctor, with his quick, impatient step,
an eye matching Hugh's long, nervous strides, a foolish, meaningless

(50:54):
march back and forth across our own shadows, each of
us marking the time by counting off the pass seconds,
and each ashamed to be the first to look at
his watch for a while. There was a counterpoint to
this scraping of feet from inside the cell. It was
a barely perceptible clinking of chain coming at brief regular intervals.

(51:15):
There would also be a long silence followed by a
renewal of the sound when it stopped again. I could
not restrain myself any longer. I held up my watch
toward the dim yellow light of the bulb overhead, and
saw with dismay that barely twenty minutes had passed. After that,
there was no hesitancy in the others about looking at
the time, and if anything, this made it harder to

(51:36):
bear than just wandering. I caught the doctor winding his
watch with small brisk turns, and then a few minutes
later he would try to wind it again and suddenly
drop his hand with disgust as he realized he had
already done so. Hugh walked with his watch held up
near his eyes, as if by concentrating on it he
could drag that crawling minute hand faster around the dial.

(51:58):
Thirty minutes it passed forty forty five Up next, it's

(52:23):
the conclusion to Stanley Ellen's the moment of decision when
Weird Darkness returns. Weird Darkness is celebrating our birthday this month.

(52:44):
We use this annual celebration to help those who struggle
with depression. Every October, we raise money for organizations that
help people overcome depression, anxiety, and thoughts of suicide and
self harm. It's called Overcoming the Darkness, and you can
make a donation right now at weird Darkness dot com
slash hope. That's weird Darkness dot com slash hope. A

(53:05):
gift of any amount helps, with every dollar bringing hope
to someone affected my depression. To donate, to get more
information about overcoming the darkness, or to find hope to
battle back the darkness of depression in yourself or someone
you love, visit weird Darkness dot com slash hope. The
fundraiser ends on Halloween night at midnight, so please give
right now while you're thinking about it. That's Weird Darkness

(53:27):
dot com slash hope. I remember that when I looked
at my watch and saw that there was less than
fifteen minutes to go, I wondered if I could last
out even that short time. The chill had sunk so

(53:48):
deep into me that I ached with it. I was
shocked when I saw the hughes face was dripping with sweat,
and the beads of it gathered and ran off while
I watched. It was while I was looking at him
in fascination that it happened. The sound broke through the
walls of the cell, like a wail of agony heard
from far away, and shivered over us, as if it

(54:09):
were spelling out the words doctor. It cried the air.
It was Raymond's voice, but the thickness of the wall
blocking it off, turned it into a high, thin sound.
What was clearest in it was the note of pure terror,
the plea growing out of that terror air. It screamed,
the word, bubbling and dissolving into a long, drawn out

(54:31):
sound which made no sense at all. Then it was silent.
We leaped for the door together, but Hugh was there first,
his back against it, barring the way. In his upraised
hand was the hammer which had clinched Raymond's collar. Keep back,
he cried, don't come any nearer, I warn you. The

(54:52):
fury in him, brought home by the menace of the weapon,
stopped us in our tracks. Hugh, the Doctor pleaded, Oh,
which you're thinking. But you can forget that now the
BET's off and I'm opening that door on my own responsibility.
You have my word for that, do I? But do
you remember the terms of the bet, doctor, This door
must be opened within an hour, and it doesn't matter

(55:14):
what means are used. You understand now he's fooling both
of you. He's faking a death scene so that you'll
push open the door and win his bet for him.
But it's my bet, not yours, and I have the
last word on it. It's all from the way he talked,
despite the shaking tension in his voice, that he was
in perfect command of himself, and debate everything seem that

(55:35):
much worse. How do you know he's faking? I demanded?
The man said he had a heart condition. He said
there was always a time in a spot like this
when he had to fight panic and could feel the
strain of it. Or right, do you have to gamble
with his life? Damn it? Don't you see? He never
mentioned any heart condition until he smelled a bet in
the wind. Don't you see? He set his trap that way,

(55:55):
just as he locked the door behind him when he
came into dinner, but this time, nobody will it for him.
Nobody listen to me, the doctor said, and his voice
cracked like a whip. Do you concede that there's one
slim possibility of that man being dead in there or dying? Yes,
it's possible. Anything's possible. I'm not trying to split hairs
with you. I'm telling you that if a man is

(56:17):
in trouble, every second counts, and you're stealing that time
from him. And if that's the case, by God, I'll
sit in the witness chair at your trial and swear
you murdered him. Is that what you want? Hughes had
sank forward on his chest, but his hand still tightly
gripped the hammer. I could hear the breath drawing heavily
in his throat, and when he raised his head, his

(56:39):
face was gray and haggard. The torment of indecision was
written in every pale, sweating line of it. And then
I suddenly understood what Raymond had meant that day when
he told Hugh about the revelation he might find in
the face of a perfect dilemma. It was the revelation
of what a man may learn about himself when he's
forced to look down into his own depth, and Hugh

(57:01):
had found it at last in that shadowy seller. While
the relentless seconds thundered louder and louder in our ears,
we waited to see what he would do. That's the ending,

(57:29):
That's the way mister Allen decided that he wanted to
finish the story. So what do you think happened? Was
Raymond alive dead? Was he trying to trick Hugh? Or
was he actually in trouble? Let me know what you think.
If you like the show, please share it with someone
you know who loves the paranormal or strained stories, true crime, monsters,

(57:51):
or unsolved mysteries like you do. The Moment of Decision
was written by Stanley Ellen and it's from the book
Alfred Hitchcock Thirteen More Stories They Wouldn't Let Me Do
On TV, Weird Darkness is a production and trademark of
Marler House Productions, Copyright Weird Darkness. And now that we're
coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a

(58:11):
little light one John four, Verse twenty. If anyone says
I love God yet hates his brother, he is a liar.
For anyone who does not love his brother whom he
has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen.
And a final thought from Tim Tharp, it doesn't matter
if it's real. It never does with dreams. They aren't

(58:34):
anything anyway, but life savers to cling to so you
don't drown. Life is an ocean, and most everyone's hanging
on to some kind of dream to keep afloat. I'm
Darren Marler. Thanks for joining me in the weird darkness.

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